


This Time I Know It's For Real

by EmAndFandems



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Drunken Confessions, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-21
Updated: 2019-08-21
Packaged: 2020-09-23 14:28:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20341636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmAndFandems/pseuds/EmAndFandems
Summary: Crowley's not a fan of the Gregorian calendar. He has a better way to mark time.





	This Time I Know It's For Real

Crowley points at Aziraphale and squints to try to get him into focus. “No, see,” he says, enunciating carefully, “that’s the trouble with time.”

Aziraphale frowns into his empty glass and moves to pour himself more. “What is?”

“S’messy,” Crowley insists.  _ "They _ keep… shifting things about. The humans. They’ve got too many systems in place. Mucking it all up. An’ when they work one thing out, as soon as you get the hang of it, they go off an’ change it on you when your back’s turned. Bloody unfair.”

“Mm,” Aziraphale says, taking another sip. “Stupid of them, really.”

“What was wrong with the Julian system?” demands Crowley. “Y’know? Why’d they have to invent a whole  _ new _ calendar? Arseholes, the lot of them. Every last one. Stupid bloody  _ time." _

He glances at Aziraphale. “Quite right, dear.”

“See, this,” says Crowley glumly, “this’s why I prefer to just count from day 1. Keeps things simple. Today’s day 2,200,242.”

Aziraphale closes his eyes and performs some quick calculations that should really not be possible with such high blood alcohol levels. “No, hang on, that’s not right. You’re a few days off.”

“M’not.”

“No, you are, it ought to be—”

“Didn’t meet you Sunday,” Crowley says, and Aziraphale falls silent.

Crowley blinks. Something about the room’s atmosphere has changed. He pushes himself further up in his seat. “Angel?”

“Crowley.” Aziraphale’s voice is hushed. “You…”

Several fuzzy thoughts are attempting to drift through Crowley’s mind. It’s not easy going, but he gets the sense he’s said something he didn’t mean to admit. “What?”

Crowley replays the conversation in his mind and throws himself back on the couch. He stares at the ceiling. “Oh.”

Aziraphale leans closer to him. “Really?”

It’s too late to deny it. “Yup.”

Crowley closes his eyes, but he can feel the couch shift as Aziraphale’s weight comes to rest beside him. “Crowley. Dear. Look at me, please.”

He cannot deny Aziraphale anything. They both know this. He looks.

“I’ve counted too,” gentle, soft as the hand that reaches up to trace Crowley’s cheekbones, his jawline.

“Have you?” Crowley breathes. Coherent thought was difficult enough without Aziraphale’s hands on him, without his face  _ so close,_ without that particular expression on Aziraphale’s face, and can this mean what he wants it to mean? Does he dare hope? 

Aziraphale’s eyes flick downward and back to Crowley’s. “I’ve been waiting too,” he says, and pulls him in to bring the wait to an end.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Queen's "I've Got To Break Free." Yes, the number Crowley says is nice and accurate(ish).  
PLEASE leave a comment to let me know what you thought, I love hearing from my readers!


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